He's a Paul Heyman guy- CM Punk X Paul Heyman
by fujiikochan
Summary: After Heyman's betrayal at Money In The Bank 2013, CM Punk considers his relationship with Heyman. Does Heyman really care about Punk, and will Punk believe his excuses, or will Brock Lesnar's intervention ruin the relationship between CM Punk and his manager forever? Slash, sexy scenes, swearing.
1. Chapter 1 - Heyman's Hustle

"Urgh!"

CM Punk sat down angrily, putting his head in his hands. Why was this happening? Why him? His head was banging, not just from the injuries sustained from that idiot Brock Lesnar, but mostly from trying to comprehend the situation. Rubbing his temples gently, he tried to think straight. Heyman, the man he considered a friend not too long ago, the guy he'd trusted for years and years had...had... Punk stood up, furious. "Stay calm, Phil." He muttered under his breath, his body shaking from anger. He heard his phone vibrate on the table behind him but ignored it. The last thing he wanted was sympathetic texts, texts from people pretending to care after seeing his 'match' against Lesnar, people who were probably laughing behind his back right now. Best in the world? Yeah, right.

It wasn't long ago since him and Heyman had been close. It was nearly a month ago since Payback. Punk thought back to Heyman at ringside during his match against Chris Jericho. He'd been cheering, supporting him. Honestly too, it seemed. Just thinking about Heyman made Punk feel dizzy. Despite this, he really wanted to see him, and had no idea why. Wasn't this the man who'd betrayed him at Money In The Bank, gaining his trust, cheering him on, just to backstab him and cost him his chance of winning the contract at MITB?! Not just that, but causing him to have to have 13 staples in his head! Fucking ladder. If only he'd seen through Heyman to start off with.

The phone ringing interrupted his thoughts. Punk walked slowly over to the table to see who it was. He had no intention of answering it. Picking up his phone off the table, he looked at the screen. Private number? "I don't fucking think so." snarled Punk,pressing END and slamming his phone back onto the table. Just as he turned around he heard the phone ring again. Private again? Curiosity got the better of Punk this time, and he answered with an angry greeting.

"Punk, here."

"Let me in."

Punk gasped quietly. Just hearing that voice made his heart start beating faster. Urgh, why did HE have this effect on him? Punk refused to let his feelings show.

"What the fuck do you want?" He growled.

"What do you think I want, Phil? I want to talk to you. I'm outside. Let me in. I don't want to do this over the phone." The voice replied, huskily. Paul Heyman sounded upset.

"I'm surprised you even have the guts to come here, Heyman. And I'm even more surprised that you fucking care. Anyway, I'm busy." Punk glanced at the clock on the wall. "It's late. Don't you have stuff to do?"

"I'm not leaving until you let me in. Punk, I can't... I just need to see you. You understand, don't you?" Punk could hear Heyman's distress over the phone. For some reason, he felt obliged to let Heyman in. But he wouldn't give in that easily.

"No, Heyman, I don't fucking understand. You got Lesnar on me tonight. Don't even deny it this time, don't even bother! Why are you here?! Just fucking go home. Nothing you can say can change any of this. You made your choice! Now fuck off back to Lesnar... you...you..." Punk's fist clenched, and he gripped his phone tightly, resisting the urge to hang up and throw his phone. Why did Heyman have this effect on him? His stomach churned.

"Now, be reasonable, Phil. If I wanted to go back to Brock, I'd be there now, not stood outside your place like I am right now. I NEED to talk to you, Phil. Now, please, let me in. I just need to say something I can't say over the phone. Please?"

Punk hung up, and placed his phone on the table. What did Heyman want?


	2. Chapter 2- Luck is for losers

Heyman slid his hand over his greased back hair and gave CM Punk a sad smile as he walked through the doorway. "I'm surprised you let me in, Punk. I've been a total idiot-"

"Shut it, Heyman, and explain your goddamn self." demanded Punk, sitting down and facing Heyman. Punk noticed Heyman's eyes were red and at Punk's harsh words, Heyman flinched.

"Punk, Phil, I just, needed to see you. I've been an idiot. This whole thing has spun out of control. I was hurt, you understand?" Heyman's eyes widened, and he seemed genuinely upset. "You told me to stay away, you were my best friend, and I promise, I didn't get Brock on you!"

"Ha!" Punk laughed. He thought back to RAW, how Heyman had taunted him with his own catchphrase, and at the sound of "It's clobbering time!"that idiot Brock Lesnar had entered. All this following a harsh speech from Heyman who even mocked Punk for having no wife or family. How could that have any plausible explanation? One answer: it couldn't.

As if reading Punk's mind, Heyman stepped forward. "Phil, any problem you and Brock have is between yourselves. But he's a close friend of mine, and he cares a lot about me. He doesn't like seeing the effect you have on me, Phil."

"What fucking effect?!" Punk felt like shouting. Instead, he stayed calm, crossed his arms and smirked. "Yeah, because he knows I'm best in the world. He's jealous, Heyman. That's all there is to it. Now thank you for this shitty excuse of an apology, but I don't forgive you. And you'll see that messing with me is a bad idea."

"You don't get it, Phil. I can't deal with how I feel about you."

"YOU'RE A FUCKING LIAR, HEYMAN!" Punk stood up. Heyman didn't move."You even admitted you lie to save your career. Why wouldn't you lie and manipulate me now? Get out. I've heard what you have to say, you-"

"I love you, Philip Brooks."

The room was silent. Punk froze, taken aback by Heyman's words. Heyman moved closer, slightly shaking. Nervously, he took a slightly step forward. "Phil, I mean it... I-"

Heyman's words were interrupted as their lips touched. Punk felt Heyman's arms slide around his neck, and his mouth instinctively opened to deepen the kiss. At the touch of Punk's tongue on his, Heyman sighed and pulled Punk closer. Realising what he was doing, Punk pulled away.

"Paul, what..?"

"I've been waiting for this moment for so long, Phil. I-" their lips touched again. Punk couldn't think straight. His stomach fluttered and he felt a twinge at the base of his abdomen. His heart was beating so fast he was sure Heyman could feel it pressed against his chest. "Oh, Phillip." breathed Heyman as Punk slid his hand up Heyman's shirt. At the sound of his name, Punk pulled away.

"I can't fucking do this, Heyman!" and the next thing Heyman knew, Punk had sprinted out the room and disappeared out the front door with a loud bang.

Heyman stared at where Punk had been stood seconds ago, shaking. He thought about the kiss, and wondered what had made Punk react in that way. What had he done?


	3. Chapter 3- Chicago Made

CM Punk slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes. The sound of his phone buzzing repeatedly had woken him and, despite trying to ignore it, he rolled over to check it. Groggily, Punk grabbed his phone, trying to think about what could be so urgent.

"For fuck's sake." Punk groaned, slamming his phone back down. He'd been trying to forget the 'incident' with Heyman. It seemed that that would be extremely hard if Heyman didn't keep his fucking mouth shut about him. If the situation between the two of them hadn't been bad enough, Heyman, according to multiple messages in Punk's inbox, had been running his mouth about him to The Miz on Smackdown. Heyman had apparently warned Punk to "stay down" and "leave the WWE". To make matters worse, Heyman had been spreading his idiotic lies even more, claiming that if Punk ever showed his face in the WWE again, Lesnar would take Punk's actions as a "spiteful act of provocation". That idiot Heyman had even vowed that Punk would be "dealt with" by Brock Lesnar.

"I wonder what people would say if they knew what really happened between us." laughed Punk to himself. Oh well, at least Heyman would leave him alone. From the sound of things, Heyman had a new favourite, Curtis Axel.

Did Heyman even deserve a response? After all Heyman had done, CM Punk still felt guilty for whatever reason. Trying to take his mind off things, Punk crawled out of bed. His head was throbbing. Just as he got up, his heard his phone vibrate once again. Half asleep, Punk reached for his phone off the table and answered it without even checking the number.

"I meant what I said last night, Punk." Jesus Christ, couldn't Heyman leave him alone for a day?

"What part, Heyman? The part where you claimed that I should leave the WWE, or that I'd be beaten again by Lesnar?" Punk growled down the phone. "Look, I don't get why you-"

"The part where I said I still have love in my heart for you, Punk." Heyman interrupted him, pretending he hadn't even heard Punk's angry words. "It's true. I wouldn't have come round to your place the other night if I didn't mean it. You know how I feel about you, Punk. And I'm being honest. I wouldn't lie to you..."

Honest? Paul Heyman? Punk stifled a giggle. "Yeah, Heyman. Honest is your middle name. I heard what you had to say the other day, and I've heard what you said about me on Smackdown. So, if you don't mind, I'd like you to leave me alone. Maybe you could harass your new favourite plaything Curtis Axel instead?"

Silence. Punk wondered what he'd said that Heyman had been so shocked by.

"...you really don't believe me, Phil?"

"No, I don't." Punk spat back down the phone. "You lie about things all the time. You sabotage matches. You only care about progressing your career. Now that you're pissed off that I don't want you as my manager, you can't stand the fact that that might impact your career. You're a lying scumbag, Heyman, and I'm not prepared to be used by you anymore."

"I don't think we should talk about this over the phone..." Heyman started to say when Punk interjected. "What, so you can sexually harass me again? Nice try, Heyman."

"Sexually harass?" Punk could practically heard Heyman's confusion. "Punk, we both know that's not what it was."

What was it then? Punk hadn't really thought about it. Well, he'd tried not to. He could feel his hands sweating and his heart beating louder as he thought about Heyman kissing him. Yes, he wanted it at the time, but wasn't Heyman the one who started it all?

Punk glanced at his watch. "Heyman, I don't have time to talk about this. I have to go and meet Amy. You know, my girlfriend?" He waited for some sort of plea from Heyman and this time he wouldn't give in to that manipulative scumbag. Instead, he was greeted with silence again from the other end of the phone. His former manager seemed to be lost for words. "And don't forget..." Punk added, a half smile on his face. "I'm best in the world. And you can try and get your boyfriend Brock Lesnar to 'deal' with me. But you're going to regret messing with me and making this personal."

Pressing the END CALL button on his phone, Punk slammed it onto the table. "Screw you, Paul Heyman."


	4. Chapter 4- Chick Magnet Punk

"Are you okay, Phil?"

CM Punk looked up at his girlfriend sat opposite him. Running his hand through his hair, he attempted to smile. "Yeah, just have some stuff on my mind, that's all. Don't worry about me."

"The Heyman situation?" Lita asked, her brow furrowing. She reached out to take Punk's hand in hers. "Babe, I'm sure it will..."

Punk sighed loudly, pushing Lita away. The last thing he needed right now was yet more sympathy. In fact, he really didn't want to see anyone at the moment, let alone Lita. She meant well, of course. But all things considered, her presence was making Punk feel even more anxious and guilty than he already felt. His hand traced over the 13 staples in his head and he winced, remembering the blow to his head from the ladder. His head throbbed as a constant reminder of Money In The Bank, a constant reminder of Paul Heyman, and, most importantly, a constant reminder of betrayal. Leaning back in his chair, Punk gently rubbed his temples.

"Amy, I'm not really in the mood for talking." Punk finally said, unable to meet Lita's eyes. "I just feel...I don't even know, Amy. I can't really describe it."

"You miss him, don't you?"

At Lita's words, Punk froze. Of course, he was disgustingly hurt by Heyman's actions, but was that really it? Was that really why Punk had felt so upset and depressed since Heyman had cut him off? It would make sense. Punk thought back to Payback, how during the match Heyman had stood ringside, cheering. They had been best friends. Yet again, Punk had screwed up something good in his life.

"Don't be an idiot." spat Punk. "That idiot? There's no way I miss him. I have better friends than that. For all I care, he can fuck off with Lesnar." Laughing, he glanced up at Lita. Her concerned face stared back at him. She knew he was lying. Punk wondered if she knew that he was hiding something from her.

So Heyman had kissed him nearly a week ago. It wasn't as if it had meant anything to Punk. He knew it was just another trick from the King of manipulation, Paul Heyman. Even if Heyman genuinely had feelings for Punk, (The thought of Heyman having any sort of emotions nearly made Punk burst out laughing.), then why would he get Brock Lesnar involved? It made no sense, thought Punk. Heyman had strictly stated that he wanted a business relationship with his client, of which that included Lesnar.

Punk was dragged out of his thoughts by his girlfriend coughing loudly. Her concern had quickly turned into anger, and her hands were shaking. Muttering something under her breath, her top lip curled almost in disgust. "I thought you were always honest with me, Phillip." she smirked. "Why don't you tell me the truth?"

He stood up, angrily. "I'm going home, Amy. I'll call you later."

"I don't think you should bother, Phil." Pushing her chair back loudly and grabbing her bag, Lita got up. "I know you're lying. And I know you're hiding something from me."

"Amy..." Punk stepped forward and reached out for her as she turned her back on him. Flicking her hair over her shoulder, she walked away swiftly.

"Have fun in Texas!" she called as she loudly slammed the door shut.


	5. Chapter 5- Best VS The Beast

"I thought you said you weren't in Texas." CM Punk growled at his unexpected visitor.

A few hours earlier, Punk had appeared on RAW due to demands that he was to respond to Heyman's accusations. Trying to stay calm about the situation, Punk had explained that he wanted a match versus Brock Lesnar at Summerslam, to put an end to Heyman's claim that Punk could never beat 'The Beast.' Punk wasn't afraid of Lesnar; in fact, Punk was excited for his match. He would have wrestled Lesnar there and then if it weren't for two reasons. First of all, Punk was obviously injured. He wasn't going to deny that. 13 staples in his head, and injuries to his ankle and elbow, due to the F-5 onto the table by Lesnar. No matter how much he tried to ignore it, the fact was that in the shape that he was in and with the injuries he had sustained from the ladder and that idiot Lesnar he wouldn't be able to wrestle. That wasn't the only reason. Knowing that Punk would physically hurt him, Paul Heyman hadn't even got the guts to talk to him in person. He'd had a video conference 'via satellite' in which he claimed that both himself and Lesnar wouldn't even venture into the state of Texas, where RAW was being held. Furiously, Punk had threatened Heyman, and once again, like the coward he was, Heyman had ran away. Of course, Punk didn't believe for one moment and had even once again questioned Heyman's honesty. And he was right, as usual. That fucking liar.

"Punk, you know why I'm here..." Heyman began, stepping towards Punk, one arm outstretched.

"Don't even try that with me again, Heyman!" smacking away Heyman's arm, Punk grabbed the top of Heyman's shirt. Roughly pushing him against the wall, Punk's eye narrowed. "You lied again. And now you're going to get what's coming to you..." Heyman's eyes widened in panic and he started to shake. "Shitting yourself now, you lying fuck?" Punk spat in Heyman's face. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Punk... Phil... stop this, don't...aaaah!" Heyman's plea was interrupted by a swift punch to the stomach. Gasping for air, Heyman fell to his knees. "Phil... please... don't..."

"So, you can let ME endure far worse pain than this, but YOU can't take a punch to the stomach without crying?" Punk thought as he stood above the whimpering mess that was now crying beneath him. "Get the fuck out of here, Heyman." snarled Punk, grabbing Heyman's ponytail and throwing him onto the ground. Heyman didn't move, continuing to clutch his stomach and breath heavily. Punk tapped his former manager with his foot. No wonder he hid from Punk at RAW tonight. At RAW, Punk was furious, and wouldn't have been able to show the restraint that he had tonight. Despite causing little injury to the man who'd betrayed him, Punk unusually felt no regret. He vowed to take the rest of his anger out on that idiot, Brock Lesnar.

"Come on, Heyman." Punk knelt down to check that Heyman was still alive. Surely a single punch to the stomach wouldn't cause that much injury? Funny how Paul Heyman had claimed that the duo, himself and CM Punk, were combined the reining champion for 400 plus consecutive days. Heyman would have had no chance in any of the matches Punk had wrestled. He was all talk.


	6. Chapter 6- Straight-Edge Superstar

CM Punk gazed down at the shaking body of Paul Heyman below him and instantly felt a twinge of regret. Heyman wasn't a wrestler, he was a manager. How could Punk have expected Heyman to endure a beating from the self proclaimed "Best In The World"? His former manager definitely deserved a lot more than a single blow to the stomach, but right now that's all the physical beating that Punk was planning to give him. Crouching down slowly next to Heyman, Punk gently placed his hand on Heyman's shoulder. "Heyman? Heyman? Get up. I'm not going to hit you again. You don't deserve my time." Punk sighed and started to get up. As he did so, Heyman's hand shot out, and grabbed Punk's wrist. Rolling over to face Punk, Heyman pulled Punk down next to him. At that point, Punk came to a realisation. Heyman hadn't been crying over the pain of an insignificant beating. Tears in his eyes, his former best friend glanced up, and his eyes met Punk's.

"Heyman... Paul... I'm sorry..."

Before Punk could continue to stutter out his half hearted apology, Heyman pulled CM Punk to the floor, grabbing both of Punk's wrists and pinning him down underneath him. Before Punk could stop him, Heyman leaned in and gently kissed Punk's half open mouth. For the second time in the past week, Punk felt that fluttering sensation in his stomach, and he parted his lips slowly, receiving Heyman's tongue inside. Heyman moaned softly, his hands tightening around Punk's wrists. Powerless to stop him, Punk lay there, greeting each flicker of Heyman's tongue with a response from his own. Biting gently on Punk's bottom lip, Heyman began slowly grinding his body against Punk's. Punk let out a gasp of pleasure, his back arching slightly as Heyman started to kiss his neck, his tongue tracing the sensitive part just underneath his ear. The gentle kisses eventually turned into biting, and Punk felt powerless to stop him.

Heyman traced his tongue along Punk's well definied collarbones, softly biting each one. Punk could hear himself breathing louder and louder. Clenching his fists in pleasure, he arched his head back as Heyman began kissing down Punk's muscular body, pausing for a moment to tenderly cherish each of Punk's slightly stiff nipples with his tongue. He let go of Punk's wrists as he neared Punk's crotch to undo his belt and, after undoing the button of Punk's pants, Punk could feel Heyman's hard erection pressing against him. Punk himself felt the blood rushing to his crotch, becoming hard, as Heyman proceeded to kiss around Punk's sensitive penis.

"Punk, I want you so badly." whispered Heyman.


	7. Chapter 7- The Walrus

CM Punk lay on his side, facing the wall. Snoring had woken him. For once, it had not been his own snoring that had woken him up.

Punk rolled over and examined the sleeping body next to him. This man, his former best friend, his former manager, and what some believed to be his current enemy, was sleeping softly beside him. How had this happened? Punk sighed as he gazed at Paul Heyman's sleeping face. Asleep, Heyman looked innocent, the lines on his rough skin looking smoother than usual. Punk could hardly believe that this was the same manipulative asshole whose endless lies and manipulation had caused him so much hassle.

Muttering something under his breath, the sleeping Heyman slid closer to Punk. After last night, what was going to happen between Heyman and him? Would he still have to fight Brock Lesnar at Summerslam? Punk rubbed his temples again, trying once again to comprehend the situation. It was too complicated for him as usual. Punk still didn't fully understand how he felt about Heyman, and when their 'best friends' turned into 'more than friends'. He knew he'd felt like this for a while about Heyman. Of course, that was why he'd tried to change their 'business' relationship into a 'personal' relationship, which had gone horribly wrong.

The floorboards squeaked as Punk got out of bed and started to walk towards the kitchen. Grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge, Punk heard Heyman start to wake up from the other room. He walked towards the doorway and leaned against it, swigging out of the bottle casually.

"'Morning."

Confused, Heyman sat up, not quite realising where he was. His eyes quickly focused on CM Punk's muscular frame stood in the doorway, and immediately blushed. Suddenly realising that he was fully naked, Punk smirked. Heyman shook his head and sat up, half asleep, rubbing his eyes. He scanned the room for his clothes.

"What time is it-"

"Somewhere you need to be?" Punk grinned. "Come on, I doubt you're in that much of a rush..."

Spotting his clothes dangling from Punk's left hand, Heyman frowned. He got up slowly and stomped towards Punk. Angrily, he snatched them from Punk.

"Woah, someone isn't a morning person."

Heyman ignored him. He started to get dressed, acting completely oblivious to Punk watching him. What the hell? The night before Heyman had been so eager to be with him, and now he was trying to run from him? Punk frowned.

"Look, Heyman. There's no need to be like this." Punk was genuinely confused. "It happened. We can't change that."

Heyman spun round to face Punk. "You think this is all a joke, do you, Punk?" Heyman spat out the last word like he was cursing. "My reputation. If someone finds out about this..."

"You invited yourself over, Heyman! I know you don't like me saying it, but you harassed me and called me constantly." Punk's headache had returned. Wincing slightly, he continued. "You didn't care about your so-called 'reputation' last night when you were sucking my-"

"I'm your ex-manager." interrupted Heyman, his lined forehead creasing further in anger. "How are WWE supposed to take me seriously if they find out I'm sleeping with-"

"That didn't bother you last night!" Punk yelled, stepping towards Heyman. "So what, you're so OVERCOME with feelings, you HAD to come round?! What are you DOING, Heyman?"

Heyman sighed. "You, Punk, have a bad reputation within the company. Don't even try and deny it. Whereas I've been involved in the company before I even discovered you. You, CM Punk, say one word against me, I can twist it. I can say YOU tried to seduce me, to get better matches, to try and get an 'edge', and you basically used me to get to the top. So, this is it. Stay away from my clients. If you continue this petty feud against me, and my BEST FRIEND, Brock Lesnar, then I have this against you-"

"Don't pretend there were no feelings involved!" Punk's fists clenched. "You have no proof-"

"That's where you're wrong, Punk-" Heyman's words were interrupted by Punk's phone calling. Yet another Blocked number. Heyman nodded at the phone.

"Punk, here." Snarling into the phone, Punk looked up at Heyman suspiciously. A smurf-like voice answered on the other side.

"Tell Paul Heyman I'm here to pick him up." squeaked the voice on the other end of the phone. Brock Lesnar.


	8. Chapter 8- Still a Paul Heyman guy?

"What the FUCK are you playing at, Heyman?" CM Punk snarled, his forehead creasing slightly as he glared at Paul Heyman, his former Manager. It didn't help that Punk was extremely short tempered; recently, Heyman had been irritating him a lot more than usual. And that was the biggest understatement of the century.

Had he planned this all out? It didn't make any sense to Punk. In fact, not a single part of this situation made sense to him. One minute, Heyman was claiming that Punk 'broke his heart' and he only had 'love for CM Punk', and the next he was creating these stupid, stupid situations. That was Paul Heyman for you- manipulative, selfish and an asshole.

Heyman smirked again and ran his hair over his slicked back ponytail. Punk took a deep breath and blew out slowly. Heyman would only use his anger against him. Are you happy, Heyman?

"Seriously, Heyman, what is this all about? Why have you brought Brock Lesnar here of all places?" Punk stepped towards Heyman, clenching his fists tightly.

"Punk, Punk, Punk" sang Heyman, a mocking tone in his voice. "You don't get it, do you? You play right into my hands. Getting you to do what I want is easy."

Jumping forwards, Punk instinctively reached out to grab Heyman in anger. "Stop fucking playing around, Heyman. DO you have feelings for me or not? Why can't you let me know where I stand with you?!" Heyman sidestepped Punk's lunge and placed his hand on the doorhandle next to him. "You're not leaving, Heyman, until you tell me what this is all about."

"Fine, Punk!" Heyman spat, backing against the door. "I... I loved you. I did. You broke my heart, Punk. You're a Paul Heyman guy. We made a great team, WE were WWE champion for all that time, not you, US. And you seemed to think you did it alone. But you didn't, did you Phil?" Heyman's expression hardened. "You might have thought I'd have wanted our relationship maybe more, ahem 'personal', which I did, Punk. But you're an arrogant, self centered, self proclaimed 'Best In The World.', and your over inflated ego needs to be brought down a notch. So, who better than Brock Lesnar to show the 'Best' that he's not, 'THE BEST'?!" practically yelling those last words, Heyman stood up straight, staring Punk right in the eye. "Our personal relationship is separate from our business relationship, CM Punk, and you don't seem to realise that. This-" Heyman gestured around him at Punk's room, his unmade bed, and Punk himself. "-this is personal. And in that ring, that is business."

Heyman pulled the door open and stepped through it, slamming it behind him.

"And my world revolves around business."


End file.
